


The Heart Asks Pleasure First

by hoshatree (marchmain)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Cross-Generation Relationship, M/M, Romance, set in Japan, sexual awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-15 05:59:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9222110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchmain/pseuds/hoshatree
Summary: Yuta is curious about the stranger who keeps visiting his grandfather's deathbed.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> \- The family characters in this story are all 100% fictional and not based on real people.  
> \- The title comes from the [poem](http://www.bartleby.com/113/1009.html) by Emily Dickinson.  
> \- Content warning for themes around death and illness.

Yuta wondered how long it would take for his grandfather to die.

The last heart attack had been so severe that he was left as weak as a baby, but he had always been a stubborn and selfish man, and Yuta knew that he would hold onto what remained of his life as long as he was able.

Yuta had come to visit him in the hospital for two reasons: one, because his sister had nagged him, and two, because he had inwardly nagged himself. He had never liked his grandfather. The old man had been so cold to his grandmother, harsh on his mother, and spiteful towards his father, but ultimately they were bound by blood so Yuta decided that he should at least visit him on his deathbed.

Yuta sat at his grandfather's side. The old man was too weak to talk, but if he could, he would probably be scolding Yuta for what a useless waste of space he is, and how he ought to do something with his life. Yuta smiled to himself as he stood up and walked to the window. As a child he had always been so scared of his grandfather.

"Spring is starting," he said as he tapped on the window, but everything outside still looked grey. To his surprise, Grandfather replied to him, in the tangled, unintelligible voice of someone half awake, half dreaming.

"Grandfather, what did you say?"

"Plum blossom..."

"Plum blossom? There are no plum trees here."

" _Plum blossom lovers... who planted plum trees..._ " The old man sighed heavily, and Yuta watched him with curiosity. Was his grandfather trying to recite a poem? He never thought he'd hear that. Grandfather hated poetry, like he hated art and fiction; wasteful things for people with lazy minds.

After a sigh, he finished the poem:

     "Plum blossom lovers  
     Who planted plum trees,  
     For their children."

Grandfather was more awake now. He watched Yuta with vacant, half open eyes.

"Who are you?"

"Nakamoto Yuta. Your grandson."

"Right. It's you."

There was no pleasure in his voice. They had never gotten along, and there was probably no point in trying now. Yuta went back to facing the window.

Suddenly, Grandfather called out again: "Where is Hansol?"

"Hansol? I don't know who that is."

"Hansol... the plum tree..." he mumbled something else, too vague to comprehend, then suddenly his voice became clear again. "I must see Hansol. I will die soon. Ask Hansol to come."

Yuta wrote the name on the back of a shop docket so he wouldn't forget it. He wondered if it was someone from his past, someone he had unfinished business with, or maybe just someone from his senile imagination.

* * *

Yuta asked his sister later that night when they ate dinner together, but he was disappointed by her response.

"Hansol was one of the carers from the old facility. You would have met him if you had ever visited, but you never did."

Yuta groaned. "Don't nag me! I was busy with school back then. Besides, I visited today, didn't I? And Grandfather even talked to me."

"Did he say much else?"

"No, he just rambled about this Hansol guy. And plum trees. I thought he was trying to recite a haiku. I was amazed."

She nodded. "It's because of Hansol - he used to read poetry to him in the old place. It's funny, he always used to hate poetry didn't he? But people change when they get old."

"Who was this Hansol guy?"

"He was a foreigner, and he had come to Japan to study. He worked part time at the facility and he would read and chat to the residents to improve his Japanese. I spoke to him a couple of times. His Japanese was awkward, but he was a nice person. He would have been around your age."

"Did Grandfather like him?"

"Yes! I think he was the only person there that Grandfather liked. For a while he wouldn't even let anyone else touch him."

"That's interesting." Yuta stared into his empty bowl. "But it seems weird that Grandfather liked a foreigner. And someone who read poetry, of all things."

"But Hansol was kind to him. He used to stay after his shift just to sit and talk with him. I think Grandfather would have appreciated that, seeing as his own grandson never visited."

"Don't start that again! You know he hates me. You should have seen the look of disappointment on his face when he opened his eyes and saw me. He kept asking for Hansol." He waited for his sister's reply, but she only shrugged. "So do you think we should ask Hansol to come visit him? Would he come if we asked?"

"Maybe. But I don't think he works at the facility anymore. He might not even live in Japan now."

"Can you try calling him?"

She rolled her eyes. " _You_ can."

Yuta decided that he would. It was the easiest way to relieve his sense of family guilt. All he had to do was ask another guy to visit his grandfather in his place. 

* * *

When Yuta called the facility the admin lady confirmed that Hansol was no longer working for them, but she was happy to give his contact number.

"Hansol was fond of Mr Yoshida. He will be glad you called him."

Yuta called him immediately. "Is this Ji Hansol?"

The voice on the other end sounded cautious. "Yes?"

"Do you remember a patient where you used to work named Yoshida Tadao?"

"Of course I remember Mr Yoshida. Who is this?"

"My name is Nakamoto" - Yuta didn't know why he was speaking so awkwardly - "I mean, I'm Mr Yoshida's grandson."

A pause. "Has something happened?"

"Well, yes. My grandfather had a heart attack and he's not well. He's in hospital at the moment. I don't want to bother you, but if you had some spare time would you consider coming to visit? He asked to see you."

Another pause. "It's my day off on Thursday. I'll come then. Thank you for calling me."

Yuta thought that he could hear a waver in his voice as he hung up.

* * *

Yuta went to the hospital on Thursday to meet Hansol in person. It was easier to have a family member to check him in, but Yuta was also curious to see what he was like.

Hansol walked through the entrance looking nervous, and Yuta, guessing who he was, went over to greet him. He bowed to Yuta in a jerky motion. When he stood up straight, Yuta could see that Hansol was very tall, but somehow his size did not match his demeanor. Half his face was hidden behind a large scarf, and his round eyes met Yuta's for only a second, before flicking towards the floor. When he spoke, his Japanese was fluent, but awkwardly formal, typical of a foreigner. His voice was gentle.

"I didn't know that Mr Yoshida had a grandson."

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised he never mentioned me. I think you've met my sister."

"Yes. I remember her."

Yuta stood beside him as he signed in at the front desk.

"Did you come very far to get here?"

"Not really. I caught the train from Kobe."

By Yuta's estimation, that would have taken at least 40 minutes. He chose not to ask about it further as he took Hansol to his grandfather's room.

Grandfather was awake, sitting up and staring at the grey window. Blue-grey light filtered through the thin curtains and the whole room felt like a tomb.

"Grandfather, someone has come to see you."

Grandfather turned his head slowly. "It's you again."

"Not just me. I've brought Hansol with me."

The old man lowered his head sadly. "I'd rather not see Hansol now."

Yuta could not hide his annoyance."But Grandfather, you asked for him to come! He's come all the way from Kobe."

"Ah yes... my _heart_ asked for him to come. But my mind does not want to see him."

Hansol did not seem troubled or surprised by this reaction. He quietly went to pull up a chair, and took his coat and scarf off and placed them to the side. Grandfather watched him, and ignoring Yuta, he now directed his comments to Hansol.

"For vanity's sake, I didn't want you to see me like this. I don't want you to remember me looking so weak."

"Don't be silly, Mr Yoshida. You look well, and I am glad to see you."

Grandfather only spoke in dialect, and yet Hansol seemed to understand him, even though he replied in standard Japanese. He took one of Grandfather's hands and enveloped it in his own. It was a simple gesture, but it seemed to lift the sadness out of Grandfather's face, and he became peaceful and content.

Yuta stood to the side and watched them silently, since they appeared to have forgotten his presence. Then Hansol turned to him and stood up. He bowed awkwardly and said, "Would you please excuse us?"

"Huh?"

"I mean... would you please let us be alone?"

"Oh! oh right, sorry."

Yuta turned and left the room, then stopped outside the door. _Let us be alone?_ Why did he need to ask that? Yuta should have been happy to have an excuse to go home early, but the request had shaken him. There was something weird about it.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Yuta walked outside. Instead of going home, he went for a run around the neighbourhood. The exercise helped to clear his mind of these stupid thoughts, and he felt calmer as he returned to the hospital at sunset. He saw Hansol coming out of the entrance, the big scarf wrapped around his head again. Yuta called out to him, and he turned around, looking startled.

"I didn't realise you were still here," he said. "Mr Yoshida is asleep now."

"That's okay. I was just about to go home."

"I'm sorry if I offended you before. I thought that Mr Yoshida might get stressed if there were too many people in the room. He always hated having people crowd around him."

"And he hates me in particular."

Hansol looked away, blushing. "I don't think that's true."

"But you said that he never mentioned me."

"Yes, but he doesn't ever talk to me about other people. I know what he's like. He can be... hostile to people. He was like that with many of the staff at the old facility. But he's like... um, I'm not sure how to say it in Japanese. Hard on the outside?"

"But soft and sweet on the inside?" Yuta laughed. "He's not - he's mean and cruel all the way through!"

Hansol blushed again. "He was kind to me."

Yuta was frustrated that he couldn't argue with this. This stranger could never understand the complexities of their family history. Yoshida had hated Yuta's father from the start, and thrown Yuta's mother out because of it. He had no desire to share this with Hansol, so he simply said, "you didn't know him when he was young."

"And you don't know him now."

This reply surprised Yuta - he had pinned Hansol as being too meek to speak so straightforwardly. He suddenly found a new respect for Hansol.

"I suppose that is true."

Hansol became embarrassed again. "He wasn't always nice to me either. He yelled at me the first time I tried to read to him. But... I think not many people understand him. Sorry, I can't think of how to explain it well." He paused. "Mr Yoshida is very sick. The doctor told me they expect him to pass away soon. I'll try to come back as often as possible."

"Don't feel pressured if it's a long way."

"I want to come back. I think Mr Yoshida is scared of dying alone." He looked away as he said this, as though he was embarrassed to show Yuta how emotional he was.

Yuta watched him leave with new pity in his heart. He had no pity for his grandfather; it was all for Hansol, the only person who seemed sad that his grandfather was dying.

* * *

Next week, Yuta's mother reported that Grandfather's condition was improved. He was talking more and eating more, much to the surprise of his doctor.

"It's because that Korean boy has been visiting him," she said, but Yuta had guessed as much. It turned out that Hansol had visited him more than once in the week, and he even came at night when his work hours were over.

Yuta was a comic artist by profession, but recently he was not getting any commissions for his drawings. A publisher had rejected his latest comic submission. They'd told him that his drawings were good, but his story lacked substance and they were the work of a person who was "emotionally immature." He'd laughed at this response. If I was an emotionally mature person, he thought, I wouldn't be an artist at all. I'd be someone with a normal job, a normal girlfriend and a normal house. In the back of his mind he had then wondered if perhaps not being an artist was the best idea for him after all.

In any case, he had too much free time on his hands, so he went back to visit his grandfather that Thursday. He chose Thursday because he knew that was the day Hansol was most likely to be there, and he was curious about seeing Hansol again. When he arrived, Hansol was not there, so he sat alone with his grandfather who was sleeping lightly. When Grandfather opened his eyes, he reached over to hold his hand, the same way Hansol had done - just to see how he would react.

Grandfather sighed peacefully, and held Yuta's hand tighter. "Do you remember the plum tree?" he said.

Yuta didn't. He wondered if he was referring to the poem, or if there was a specific plum tree of some importance. He said nothing, and Grandfather continued: "I am ashamed that I was not able to treat you better."

Yuta felt a tightening in his throat. He had not expected his grandfather to say this - was he finally repenting a lifetime of coldness?

"It's shameful that I was not able to take care of the person that I loved. I'd offer you my entire inheritance, even though I know you would reject it. Pure-hearted boy..."

Yuta was confused, but then cold realisation came to him. _Has he mistaken me for Hansol?_

He let go of his grandfather's hand and stood up slowly. Just as he did so, Hansol came in. He bowed awkwardly at Yuta, but Yuta did not move.

Grandfather seemed oblivious to them both. "Do you remember the plum tree?" he asked again.

Yuta and Hansol were staring at each other, eyes locked, but then Hansol looked away and said softly, "Yes, Mr Yoshida. Of course I remember."

Yuta felt overcome by conflicting emotions - jealousy? anger? His head felt suddenly light, and his stomach heavy, so he pushed past Hansol and returned to the hall. He hung his head and took a deep breath.

"Yuta - are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

He placed his hand on Yuta's shoulder to comfort him, and Yuta felt somewhat embarrassed. But there was something warm and gentle about Hansol, and he could suddenly see why his grandfather loved him so much.

Hansol spoke softly. "I can go home if you like. If it's awkward for me to be here."

"After you came all the way from Kobe? Don't be stupid. I'm sure he'd rather see you than me."

"I'll come back tomorrow. It's no problem."

Yuta looked at the ground, embarrassed. He couldn't think of anything he'd rather do less than spend more time alone with his grandfather. And Hansol's generosity only made him feel worse.

They stood in silence for a moment, until Hansol said, "would you like to get a coffee with me?"

"Sure... I suppose."

They left the hospital together and went to the cafe near the lobby. They took a table by the window.

"I'm not really jealous of you, so you know," Yuta said as they sat down. "I don't care if my grandfather sees you as his grandson, not me."

Hansol shook his head seriously. "No. It's not like that."

He wasn't going to say what is was like. After they got their drinks, he sipped it quietly without saying anything. Yuta prompted him.

"What does the plum tree mean?"

"Huh? Oh... there was a plum tree in the garden at the old facility."

"But what's special about it?"

"Nothing really. Sometimes Mr Yoshida and I would go for a walk together, and we would stop by that tree. In springtime there were many blossoms. It was pretty." He paused to look at his cup, then he continued: "when I first worked at the facility I tried to read poetry to Mr Yoshida, but he didn't like it, so I read the newspaper instead. But then one day we walked past the plum tree and he stopped and looked at it for a while. Then he repeated the poem I had read to him on my first day."

"Plum blossom lovers..."

"Yes. It went like that. I was touched when he said it. I think it was his way of telling me that he liked me."

Hansol smiled as he recounted the memory, and Yuta watched him, scanning for any trace of falseness. He cleared his throat.

"I'll be honest with you. Before you came in today, I was talking to my grandfather and he mistook me for you. He said he wants to leave you his estate. He may well like you more than he likes his own family, and fair enough... but to deprive my mother of her inheritance, after a lifetime of mistreating her? It would be an insult more than anything, but it makes me furious!"

Hansol blinked at Yuta with his unusually round eyes. "I don't want your family's money. If he offered me anything, I'd reject it."

"He said that too. But how do I believe that?"

"You think I'm only coming here because I want his money?"

"Well, that would be my first guess."

Hansol looked away, shyly. "Mr Yoshida is my friend."

"Friend?! How can he be your friend? He was alive during World War II!" Yuta laughed, and Hansol smiled too.

"I know it seems weird. But somehow when I'm with him, I feel calm."

"So that's it. You only visit him because you like him?"

"You don't believe me? I promise you - if he offers me anything, I'll reject it. You have my word."

Yuta nodded. He did believe Hansol. Strange as it was to imagine, everything he'd seen so far indicated that Hansol's affection for the old man was real.

"I asked your grandfather about you, you know." Hansol smiled, amused, but Yuta wasn't entertained by the thought.

"What did he say about me?"

Hansol laughed softly. "I think you'll get mad if you hear it."

"I'm already mad. Tell me."

"He said - _Yuta reminds me of myself when I was young._ "

"No..." Yuta covered his face with his hands. "He really said that? Amazing. If he was like me when he was young, then I will be like him when I am old? I sure hope not."

Hansol paused thoughtfully. "Honestly, I don't think he hates you. Maybe it seems as though he's hard on you, but he wants you to live a better life than he did."

Yuta tried to think of a comeback, an argument, but he couldn't, so he stared into his cup and said nothing.

* * *

Yuta decided to return to his grandfather's room. Hansol offered to wait outside.

"It won't take five minutes," Yuta promised him.

"Take your time."

Grandfather looked asleep, but he opened his eyes when Yuta touched his hand. "Grandfather, it's me - Yuta."

"Yuta..." His speech was interrupted by coughing. "Do you have a job yet?"

"Yes, Grandfather."

Yuta knew that writing comics was not something his grandfather considered to be a real job. But a lie at a time like this was harmless.

The old man spoke: "I worked hard my whole life... to provide a comfortable life for my family. Everything was work..." he trailed off, then continued - "I thought only of my child, her future... I wanted the best for her, so I worked. Then she ran away with dead beat, Nakamoto. I worked for nothing."

Yuta clenched his teeth and glanced at the clock. It had been five minutes.

"Well, Grandfather. I don't want to keep you for long. Hansol wants to see you."

He stood up and pressed a tight lipped kiss to his grandfather's cheek. Grandfather's eyes were closed, but just as Yuta reached the door, he called weakly, "don't waste your life."

* * *

Not long after Yuta left the hospital, the sky became dark and he felt raindrops hitting the top of his head. He had brought an umbrella with him, but he suddenly remembered that he had left it in the hospital room. He had not gone very far, so he decided to walk back to get it.

He chatted politely with a nurse, and she told him that Hansol was still there, so he was welcome to go back into the room.

When Yuta reached the door he couldn't hear any talking. He pushed it open as quietly as he could. The room was dark, since the light outside had faded, and it took a second for Yuta's eyes to adjust, and then another few seconds for his mind to process what he was seeing.

Hansol was seated beside the bed, but he was leaning over so that his head was on the pillow, just an inch away from Grandfather's. And Grandfather was touching his face; his thin hand tracing from the cheek to the lip, and then repeating the motion. It was like a blind man trying to get a picture of the face and commit it to memory, but the way he touched was so tender, so affectionate--

Yuta did not pick up his umbrella. He left the room silently and then walked home in the rain.


	2. Part Two

Not many people came to the funeral - just Yuta and his family, and a few cousins. And Hansol, who few people recognised, but everyone noticed, because he was the only person crying.

"Korean people tend to cry a lot at funerals," Yuta's sister said softly as they walked to the crematorium. She seemed to say it to reassure their mother, who was looking over at Hansol every few minutes with an expression of pained sympathy. What made his crying even more pitiful was the fact that he was trying to hide it; he repeatedly wiped his cheek and pulled his scarf up higher to cover his face.

At last even Yuta found the spectacle too much to bear. He went over to Hansol to put a hand on his back, but he couldn't think of what to say.

Hansol hugged him outside of the crematorium. Yuta was relieved, since that seemed to disperse the awkwardness between them. Yuta had not seen him since that last day, when they had talked in the coffee shop, and then Yuta had seen him lying with his grandfather. That was the last day he saw his grandfather too, since he died the next week. A part of Yuta wanted to talk to him about it, and the other part wanted to avoid it entirely. Hugging was the easiest option, and so they held each other and said nothing.

Yuta moved his head so that their cheeks were touching, and then Yuta's cheek became wet from Hansol's tears. To his surprise, he started to cry too. "It's okay, it's okay," he started mumbling.

Eventually Hansol pulled away from him. He took one last look back to where the family was gathered, and then he said, "I have to go soon. Thank you for letting me come."

"Do you need me to walk with you to the train?"

"No. I know how to get there."

Yuta returned to the crematorium entrance, where his sister was waiting for him. Together they watched Hansol leave.

"That poor kid," she said quietly.

* * *

The next few weeks went by slowly for Yuta. He still hadn't received any new commissions, so he was playing around and drawings things experimentally. His drawings became more and more strange. He would come up with an idea at 1 o'clock, 2 o'clock in the morning, and then he would write it out immediately. The next day he would look on it with horror, as if it had been another person who had possessed him to draw. He thought about his grandfather again. And Hansol, and the two of them together.

 _His ghost is haunting me,_ he thought, and then he couldn't help but laugh to himself. His grandfather, who had always been such a dark shadow in life, was now following him in death too.

In his notebook Yuta drew a plum tree, covered in spring blossoms. The next day he couldn't remember why he wanted to draw it, maybe just because it was spring, and the blossoms were in full bloom now, filling the streets with heavy fragrance. Yuta looked at his plum tree and thought about Hansol, and then what Hansol had said.

_"You don't know him now."_

Yuta looked sadly at his notebook, where he was drawing two people standing side by side, without even thinking about it. _I didn't know him, probably. And now I never will._

* * *

Soon months went by and spring turned into summer. Yuta had just about stopped drawing altogether.

He received a call from his mother asking him to come over. He wondered if she was going to give him a serious talk about how he should consider going back to school. Even Yuta was starting to think that he had earned such a talk.

But that was not her purpose. She smiled warmly as he came in and gave him fresh soup, so he knew he wasn't in trouble.

"How are your comics coming along?" she asked, and Yuta looked away.

"It's fine, I suppose."

"Have you spoken to that Korean boy lately?"

"Uh? Hansol?" Yuta hadn't. Every now and then he would pick up his phone and stare at the number, but he had never had the guts to call him.

Yuta's mother passed him a small box.

"I keep thinking about him," she said. "The way he cried at the funeral. He was so unhappy and he's not even family. I think they must have been very close."

"Uh, yes." Yuta's cheeks started to warm up. He waited nervously for what she would say next.

"I think we should give him this." She opened the box to show Yuta. "I had been looking for it for ages, and I only found it last week. It was Grandfather's watch - probably the only extravagant thing he ever owned, since he was not a very fancy man. He worked his way up from nothing, and never took to pretentious things. He only ever wore it when he had to meet with important business people, so they knew that he was a serious man. I suspect it's quite valuable, but now I don't have much desire to keep it. I don't know if Hansol would like it, but I feel like Grandfather would have wanted him to have something, don't you agree?"

"Yes, I think he would like that."

"Should we invite him over? Does he live very far?"

"I think he lives in Hyogo Prefecture."

Yuta's mother closed the box, and passed it over. "Maybe it would be better if you took it to him. It's not a big gift, I don't want it to look like we're making a fuss. You two young people should meet each other, anyway."

Yuta took the box and promised to deliver it to Hansol. In some ways, this was the excuse he had been waiting for. He didn't know exactly what he was going to say to him, but he knew that he wanted to see him again.

* * *

Hansol agreed to meet him that Friday night, so Yuta caught the train in the afternoon.

The place Hansol had chosen was in a quiet location, and Yuta had to take steps into an alley to get there. When he arrived, Hansol was waiting for him. He stood up to greet Yuta shyly, eyes down. Yuta couldn't help but think that his eyes were pretty, like a girl's.

They sat across from each other on a small table in the restaurant and Yuta passed him the box. Hansol frowned as he looked inside.

"It belonged to my grandfather."

"I've never seen it before."

"Well, yeah. He never really wore it much. But it's very expensive."

"I can see that." Hansol took the watch out and inspected it, holding it up to see it better. He ran a thumb over the face, and then put it back in the box. "I told you I didn't want anything from him. Your family can keep it."

"It's not really from him, think of it as a present from my mother. She wanted you to have it. I think she felt sorry for you because you cried so much at the funeral. It would be comforting to have something to remember him by, right?"

"But this watch won't make me remember him. He never wore it."

"I suppose not."

"I think the reason I cried so much at the funeral, wasn't because I miss him - although I do miss him - it's because I feel regretful that Mr Yoshida never really lived his life the way he wanted to."

Yuta pursed his lips. It was true, he could admit it, his grandfather had always been a grumpy and unhappy man. But why should Hansol be the one to feel regretful for that?

"I'll take the watch," Hansol said after a moment of silence. "If it pleases your mother."

"Good."

They stopped talking for a few minutes, while they ordered food, and Yuta asked for beer, even though he didn't like to drink much. He suddenly felt like he could drink a lot.

"What is your occupation?" Hansol asked Yuta.

"I'm an illustrator. I draw comics."

"Wow, that's impressive."

"You wouldn't say that if you saw them. To be honest, I'm not all that good. My grandfather was probably right to nag me about getting a real job."

Hansol shrugged. "I'm sure you're being modest."

"How have you been since the funeral? Are you feeling better?"

"I'm a bit better now, thank you. It's been a few months. But I'm glad to see you again, I was thinking about you often."

Yuta drank quickly and it made his head spin. "Can you tell me what really happened between you and him?"

He thought Hansol might act confused, but it seemed as though he had been expecting this question. He sighed and said, "I'd like to explain it to you, but it's hard for me."

"I think your Japanese is pretty good. I can understand you perfectly."

"Ah, it's not just that. I think if I try to explain you could get the wrong idea."

"What's the wrong idea?"

"I don't want you to think I had any motive, that I was taking advantage of him."

"You obviously weren't interested in money, so I believe that."

Hansol paused for a few long seconds, and Yuta wondered if he was going to refuse to speak. But then he said, "I do really want to talk about it. Now that he's gone I can't talk about it with anyone, and if I don't ever talk about it, it will start to feel like it never happened."

He waited until the waiter had passed by them another time, and checking no one was in earshot, he began his story.

"When I first started working at the facility it was part time while I was studying and my Japanese was not so good. Back then I had trouble understanding dialect, and Mr Yoshida only ever used dialect, so I couldn't understand him well. The first time I tried reading to him, he got angry at me and I was very confused, and startled, since no one else had ever been angry at me before. Most of the residents found it pleasant when I read to them.

"One of the staff later told me that Yoshida was mean to everyone, and that I shouldn't take it personally. So I went back the next time and read the newspaper. When I read the newspaper he didn't say anything, but listened quietly. He would sometimes add comments, or talk to me calmly, so I thought he liked it better.

"The staff were impressed with me. They said that Yoshida never talked with anyone, and that I was brave for going back to him again. Later he told me that he liked me because of that, because I came back even after the first time he yelled at me. But funnily enough, he was my favourite person there, even from the beginning. Every time he spoke to me kindly, I felt a kind of satisfaction, because it was something I felt I had to work hard for. The other residents were very kind, very polite, but sometimes I thought that they were only lonely and wanted someone to talk to. But with Yoshida I felt like I had to work hard to please him. He was clever too. His heart was weak, but his mind was still good, so I enjoyed talking to him. He sometimes explained things to me, words I didn't know, or discussed some news story with me. He never talked much about his own life, but he liked to ask me questions about mine. He asked me about my studies, how I was going with that. I told him I was studying because I wanted to be a nurse, and he said he was impressed by me. He said he thought that I worked hard.

"After I had been there for about six months, he started talking much more openly with me. He was actually quite a straightforward person, never bothered by sharing his opinions, and he shocked me sometimes. One time he asked me if I had ever been in love. I said no, and then he said, me neither. But if I was born again I would fall in love with you."

Hansol stopped talking for a moment, and he pressed his fingers around his glass, which he had not been drinking from.

"Do you think that he was in love with you?"

"Yes. Or at least he told me so."

Yuta rubbed his forehead. He already felt dizzy from drinking too much. "But... he was 80 years old."

"You don't think that older people can have feelings too?"

"Well, feelings like this? Can't say I've ever considered it."

Hansol was quiet for a little while, and Yuta noticed that he did not eat or drink much. Yuta was eating and drinking enough for both of them.

"Did it disgust you? When he confessed to you?"

"No. I was in love with him too."

He looked up and they held eye contact for a brief second before Hansol fluttered his eyes down again. 

Hansol paused and then watched Yuta carefully. "Do you think I'm a pervert?"

Yuta laughed. "To be honest, yes."

"What's weird about it? The age difference? or because we were both male?"

"Both are unexpected I suppose."

"Once you break one taboo, it's easier to break another. I admit that it was strange to me at first, and I thought maybe there was a problem with it. I wondered if I should say something about it, say this is wrong. But then I thought - how can it be wrong? If it's only between the two of us, and we were happy, I didn't see why we should stop. I'd never dated anyone before. I didn't know what it was meant to feel like.

"After being there for two years, I was offered a placement in a hospital. I still came back often to visit Mr Yoshida. But then I was transferred to Kobe. I still came as often as I could, but it was harder because of the distance. He scolded me about it actually, told me that I should focus on my life and stop always coming back to him. I suspected he was only saying it for my sake, but I did as he told me and I didn't come back for a week. But then he had that heart attack, and then I got a call from you..."

"So you knew him for more than two years?"

"Yes."

Yuta gave an empty laugh before he drained the rest of his glass. "Well, fuck."

"Thank you for coming to see me. I wanted to tell the truth to you, even though I suspect you didn't really want to hear it."

"No it's fine," Yuta replied. "I always like to hear the truth."

In actual fact, Yuta had no idea what he wanted to hear. He'd made himself drunk while listening to Hansol's story, so he hadn't the mental ability to totally comprehend everything he'd heard. He wasn't shocked to know that Hansol and his grandfather were lovers, he'd known that ever since he'd seen them together. The thing that he was having trouble coming to terms with, wasn't that his grandfather had been a closet bisexual or a dirty old man, but that his grandfather had been a human being after all, someone who felt passion and desire.

After having confessed his side of the story, Hansol seemed more relaxed. He started to eat, although he only ate a little.

"Is remembering these things painful for you?"

"Yes. But I think it's a good pain."

They'd been talking together for a long time and when Yuta looked towards the window he saw it was dark and raining heavily. Hansol noticed the rain too.

"We should go soon."

It was dark and it was wet, so they walked to Hansol's room which was only a few streets away. They walked close to each other, sharing the same umbrella. Yuta's head felt so light, he had to stabilise himself by holding onto Hansol's arm.

Hansol let him inside. Hansol took his shoes off slowly before turning on the light. "You are welcome to sleep on my floor if you want," he said.

Hansol pulled out a futon for Yuta to sleep on, and Yuta crawled onto it, feeling somewhat ashamed by Hansol's natural hospitality. But it was too late and he was too drunk to get home on his own now, so he had to accept it. The relaxing sound of the rain on the roof, and his heavy head made falling asleep easy, so he did not stay awake for long.

When Yuta awoke, the room was still dark. He could hear the rain still falling, gently patting the window and the roof. He rolled over and saw that Hansol was sleeping beside him. He had undressed to his underwear, with a sheet pulled up to his chin. One of his legs was uncovered, looking long and white in the small moonlight.

Yuta stared at him for a long time. There was nothing mysterious about this body, everything from his chest, his stomach, his legs were not unlike Yuta's own, but Yuta kept staring as though he was seeing another human being for the first time. Because there was _something_ special in Hansol, something that his grandfather had seen. Somewhere in Hansol he had touched emotions that he had kept repressed for a whole lifetime.

Yuta wriggled closer, and then he reached out a hand to touch Hansol's shoulder. He was suddenly possessed by the desire to touch him, and discover those same emotions. His hand passed from the shoulder to the bicep, then across to the chest, then to the hard stomach.

Hansol opened his eyes slowly. Those eyes, heavy and round, somehow reminding Yuta of a calf, gazed back at him calmly. He was not at all surprised to find Yuta touching him. It was as though he had expected it, and was now welcoming it passively. This was the same way the old man had made love to him, touching him and Hansol receiving it without protest. Yuta pulled his hand back suddenly, repelled by how alike they really were.

Hansol smiled, and took hold of Yuta's hand. He shrugged off the sheet, and pressed Yuta's hand beneath his singlet, so that Yuta could feel the warm skin and muscles moving beneath. Panic suddenly filled him - the act was no longer an act of pure curiosity, it now felt very real. He slowly relaxed as Hansol continued to gently rub their hands against his midsection. Together, their hands moved down to his stomach, then to the hem of his shorts, pushing them down also. Yuta took hold of his cock, his innocent curiosity now coming back, rubbing it gently and feeling it become stiff in his grasp.

Hansol's eyes were now closed, and his breathing had become shallow and fast. Yuta pressed his body into Hansol's side, his face up against the crook of his neck. As his hand stroked and rubbed, he listened carefully, hearing only the sound of the rain, and small noises Hansol made, little gasps and moans. Yuta studied each one, wondering if they were sounds of fear, or pleasure or both. His lips sucked Hansol's collarbone as he increased his speed. He could feel the way Hansol's body started to tremble, and it filled with him a heady sensation of power. He pulled and pulled until at last he could feel the tremor, Hansol's heart pounding, as he made them both damp with his semen.

Feeling the wetness on his shirt, Yuta pulled it over his head. Hansol was lying flat on his back, still breathing loudly, and when Yuta looked down at him, he murmured shyly "thank you." Yuta lowered himself to join their lips together, kissing him deeply and wetly, pushing his tongue between the lips, and receiving Hansol's in return.

Their chests pressed together, he started saying it without even realising he was saying it: _love me, love me, please love me._

They rolled over, so that Hansol was on top. His kissed Yuta tenderly and gently, on his mouth, then down his jaw to his neck and collar. Yuta closed his eyes and listened to the rain, which seemed now to only exist just for them: its sound keeping them safe and protected in this room. He shivered as Hansol's lips touched his nipple, then his stomach. He pushed his shorts down, desperate to show Hansol his arousal, as to selfishly beg for more of his love. Hansol took it in his hand first, then kissed it reverently and Yuta trembled. As Hansol sucked gently, he felt vulnerable and powerless, and yet at the same time he was entirely loved and protected. Lifting himself up on his elbows, he watched in awe and when Hansol turned his gaze back up to meet his own, he felt his heart swell in his chest. It seemed to last for ages, but also ended too soon. In a muddled blur, the same words returned to him:

_Love me, love me, please love me!_

Exhausted, he fell back onto the futon. With his eyes closed, he heard Hansol stand up and walk away. He came back a minute later, and pulled the sheet around Yuta's shoulders. Yuta was grateful, but he was so sleepy he could barely murmur a reply. He dozed for some time, and woke later to find that Hansol was gently shaking him. Hansol was now dressed and smelled of aftershave. He said, in his awkward Japanese, "I'm going to work now. You can go back to sleep."

Yuta slept again. When he woke up, hours later, the room was full of gentle sunlight. He pulled himself up from the ground, and searched for his shirt. He couldn't find it, and then remembering he had dirtied it, he wondered if Hansol had put it with his laundry. He crawled over to Hansol's drawer and took one of his shirts. It was so big it fit him like a poncho.

When he looked at the clock on the wall he was alarmed to see it was almost midday. He felt that he should probably leave. When he remembered what had happened the night before he felt embarrassed by it, and embarrassed that he was still here.

He found his bag next to Hansol's bookshelf. He paused for a second, then crawled to his knees to look through the shelf. He found a picture book written in Kansai-ben resting on the top shelf, and he felt an unexpected flip in his chest as he pictured Hansol reading this to practice his dialect. The other books included a large kanji dictionary with pictures, a selection of manga and novels. He pulled one of the manga out and flipped open the pages. The text was in Korean so he couldn't understand a word of it, but something about the simple drawings was so melancholy and captivating that he found himself turning the pages until he was halfway through.

He pictured a similarity between Hansol and the main character, and this made it more exciting to him. He thought about taking the book with him, but then decided he couldn't without permission. He put it back it the shelf.

Over on the kitchen counter there was a bowl of fruit. Yuta didn't know if he should take one, even though he was hungry. He felt like Goldilocks, embarrassed for being an intruder in someone else's house. He walked up to the counter and saw the box his mother had given Hansol, with the watch inside. Yuta picked it up and looked inside idly, before setting down on the counter. Beside it was a note, written by hand.

_Yuta-- I'm sorry for leaving so soon. I wanted to wake you more, but your sleeping face was so pretty... thank you for staying with me last night._

Yuta read the note over a few times.

When Grandfather had told him, don't waste your life, he hadn't been talking about getting a real job, or getting married, or settling down. He'd meant not waiting until he was 80 years old before falling in love.

Yuta put his bag on the counter and then took out his sketchbook. He sat on the floor and drew quickly, everything that was in his head. He would wait until Hansol came back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write something romantic, and then... I wrote this. I hope it wasn't too weird. Feel free to chat with me on [twitter.](http://twitter.com/HoshaTree)


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